


Remember

by Hoodedscarlet



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, No True Resets, Other, Resets, gender neutral reader, pacifist run, slight PTSD?, slightly canon divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodedscarlet/pseuds/Hoodedscarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've come out of the ruins, and you know you have one simple mission. Get past Asgore, get to the barrier, and get out of here. But that's not as easy as it sounds, and as you make your way through the underground a past you're not even sure you have plagues you. But that's impossible... Right? The only person who seems to know anything besides you is a rather sarcastic skeleton, but it's going to take more than a single conversation to get him to open up.</p><p>And the real question still remains - do you want to remember?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember

You first meet him with your heart in your throat.  
  
Toriel hadn’t warned you about the cold - indeed, she hadn’t warned you about much at all save Asgore, but considering that she had been locked in battle with you only minutes before you couldn’t help but feel like her hurried exit was justified. Still, that hadn’t made it any easier to let her go, stop nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck and running your hands over every part of her you could reach; her horns, her ears, her tunic and the neatly mended gash across the centre of it, the one you had watched her mend so meticulously in front of the fire the first night you stayed. You barely knew the woman; you’d stayed with her for less than a week after all, it was madness to think you truly knew her. But she already felt like home to you.

...Which honestly sounds ridiculous, now you think about it in retrospect. You’re hardly a kid anymore, and though amnesia claims away anything more to your name than that, you know you are far too old to find the immense amount of comfort you did in the goat woman. No matter now though. You have places to be, and you heard the door seal shut behind you anyway. No going back now. You pull your hands further into the sleeves of your shirt, wrapping your arms tight around yourself as if perhaps that would starve off the cold as you carry on walking down the cleared path.  
  
At first you ignore the sounds behind you - your imagination, you try to reason, nothing more. But when the stick cracks that you had only just stepped over, when you see something move once, twice, thrice out of the corner of your eye but there’s nothing but snow behind you you can’t help but start walking faster. Maybe you can find somewhere to hide until whatever monster that’s taken an interest in you finds easier prey - unless it loses its patience in the hunt first.  
  
Faster, faster, one foot in front of the other. You can feel your breath quickening in your chest, your heartbeat pounding faster and faster against your sternum. Your fingers grip tighter around the toy knife, it feels right in your hand. They’re not leaving, _why are they not leaving,_ and you’re almost at the bridge-  
  
“Human.”  
  
You freeze; you can’t help it. The toy knife drops into the snow but you can’t even bring yourself to lament its loss. You can’t tell why you’re shivering now, whether it’s the wind or the monster’s gaze that cuts through you so easily.  
  
“Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

The voice is getting closer, and you can’t tell whether your feet are actually frozen to the ground or you’re actually just petrified from fear. You thought Flowey was bad enough, that it couldn’t get any worse than that wretched thing, but with death breathing down your neck you can’t find it in yourself to agree with that statement. This was worse. This was _way_ worse.  
  
“Turn around and shake my hand.”  
  
You can’t do it. You can’t look death in the eyes but it’s like you can’t control your feet. You move as if you’ve done this a million times before, extending your hand to… Whoever sick bastard was playing this game with you. Fingers, so cold, touch against yours for a moment and then-  
  
And then he farts.  
  
Well, the whoopee cushion in his hand does, but it basically has the same effect. Your eyes shoot open, something between a gasp and a laugh escaping out of you and if you had any breath left you would have done it again because that, that was a skeleton looking back at you and dear god what had you gotten yourself into this time? Whoever he was, he looked quite pleased with himself, chuckling away with a smile on his face - well, of course he had a smile on his face, he was a fucking _skeleton_ it wasn’t like he had any other choice. Then again, you were pretty sure you’d seen him blink, so who were you to judge?  
  
“Ah, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick.” He says. “It’s **always** funny.” He accompanies his words with a wink that you would have found slightly creepy if you also didn’t find yourself a hundred percent agreeing with him. The absurdity of that strikes you even as he rattles through the rest of his little monologue but you’re too cold and too puzzled to really try and elaborate on that train of thought.  
  
The skeleton (Sans, Sans you remind yourself and the word is light on your tongue) ushers you behind a conveniently shaped lamp before you get around to asking why exactly he was creeping on you in the first place.You’re soon distracted though because sure, Sans hadn’t hurt you but then why was he pointing you out to his brother whom he had specifically said wanted to capture humans? And by extension, _you?_ And then he starts pulling out puns and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop laughter from escaping. This was mad. This was _insane,_ but somehow Sans managed to ward off his brother despite flaunting exactly what he wanted in his face.  
  
You inch out hesitantly after that, still not sure you could trust your gut right now - after all, your gut was saying you were perfectly safe when you had literally just seen a conversation between two skeletons that were tasked with capturing you. Clearly, your gut and your heart was in the wrong place right now. But as you started walking away you could help but feel like something… Wasn’t right. On a whim, you turned around again, paced forward a couple of steps. Sans was still standing there, but there was an expression on his face that you can’t quite discern. Of course, that would make sense since he was a skeleton and skeletons didn’t really have the facial muscles to have an expression other than morbid glee - but somehow Sans managed and it makes your heart clench in your chest. He was hunched over, dwarfed in his hoodie and you can barely see the lights in his sockets that classified as his eyes. He looks… Lost.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and Sans’ head shoots up so fast you can practically hear his teeth rattle in his skull.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Thank you.” You say, suddenly a lot more unsure about the words you’re saying. You like to think you’re a courteous person, you were raised to use your P’s and Q’s, but in this moment the words feel clumsy in your mouth as you offer a smile you hope doesn’t show your sudden doubt.  It was worth it though - an almost dazed look passed over Sans’ face as he looks at you for a moment, as if he doesn’t quite know what to make of the situation.  
  
“You’re welcome.” He says, and suddenly you realise that his smile actually looks real. Still though those eyes don’t leave you as you turn away, trekking further into the forest. It was almost as if he was expecting something else from you - you are a human after all which was an oddity among oddities down here but it felt like… Something more than that.  
  
It takes you the rest of the day to realise you forgot the toy knife back in the snow where you dropped it. You carry on without it - you never liked how well it fitted in your hand, anyway. Plus, a stick is practical. You have no use for toys.

  
-x-  
  
You quickly realise that the monsters out here aren’t the abominations that Toriel seemed so intent you would encounter; if anything, most of them seemed to only attack you because that was what they were _supposed_ to do. A well placed laugh here, a carefully steeled face there and monsters either moved along of their own accord or spared you without a second thought. Also, turns out there are a _lot_ of dogs in the Underworld - thankfully, they liked scritches behind the ears and fetch just as much as any other dog you’ve had experience. Last time you checked though they couldn’t stretch their necks around you thrice or pilot great suits of armour, but you were starting to realise you just had to expect these things down here.

The few times you did see Sans, he was accompanied by his brother - a brother who seemed intent on making you run through a frankly hilarious obstacle course of puzzles (the spaghetti being the unfortunate exception - frozen _and_ tasteless, but what were you expecting from cooking by a skeleton, honestly? They don’t have tastebuds, silly). Despite everything though you found yourself… Genuinely enjoying yourself. The puzzles, while so easy you could fall asleep and still ace, had a certain charm not unlike that of a little kid showing you their colouring books - if you could take anything from the way Papyrus was cackling and running around, he felt the same. Sans however barely spoke - if not for his occasional quips and the light flickering in his sockets you would have been easily fooled into thinking he had fallen asleep. standing up. Did skeletons sleep?  
  
This world was making you have strange thoughts 

By the time you reached Snowdin though, you were tired, hungry and in a serious need of a clean. You knew eventually you’d have to go face Papyrus - that was something you didn’t want to think about too hard because you didn’t want to _fight_ him. He was too… Innocent. You brought a few cinnamon bunnies off the rabbit manning the shop, fending off her apologies that she didn’t have anything more substantial for you. It felt like your legs were made of cement as you walked next door to ask for a bed… Only to realise you had nowhere near the funds to get a room in the inn.  
  
“Don’t worry about it Doe,” a familiar voice cut through. “I’ve got this one.” And who else but Sans was sliding up to the counter, grinning as always? You’re not sure how he got in - there was no cold breeze that came through the door, nor footsteps signifying his arrival. He leaned over on tiptoes across the counter to give the junior on the other side a head ruffle, before looking at you with those bright eyes of his. “I mean, feel free to stay here if you want, but with all the snoring from the regulars I wouldn’t want _tibia_.”  
  
“Sans, no-” You plead, unable to stop the smile on your face. Puns already? And to think you thought you had a handle on the guy.

  
“You could give it a shot and just talk to me to _marrow_.”  
  
“Sans, why.”  
  
“Just forgive me if I’m _skull_ king because you didn’t listen to me in the first place.”  
  
“You wouldn’t sulk even if I gave you all the gold in my pockets right now.” You reply, and you’re not exactly sure how true that it but it feels right, and the smile you get from Sans in return is enough for that moment of doubt to pass. “Lead the way then.”  
  
The house that he ends up bringing you to is… Rather cute, to be honest. Christmas lights run up one of the pillars and along random parts of the house, and a wreath adorns the door. You already felt like this place was permanently stuck in the Christmas season but this confirmed your suspicions. Sans unlocks the door in a movement you don’t see, and leads you into the house with little fanfare.  
  
“Now, since I’m lazy as hell, I’d usually just offer you the couch. But considering my brother lives here and currently wants to capture you, you’ll probably have to come chill in my room for a while.” He says the words with such confidence, you wonder how many times he’s said them before - you can just imagine him waking up and telling himself that as he brushed his teeth in the morning. Did skeletons get cavities? Did they need to brush their teeth?

You didn't realise you had said the last question out loud until Sans started chuckling, making you flush in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Well yeah, gotta look after these bones. Plus, nothing beats a hot shower after a hard day’s work trapping humans all day.” He paused for a moment. “Even though I can’t feel the cold.” Another beat. “Honestly, a hot shower is a bit over the top.” You laugh as well, before punching Sans in the arm - but the laughter dies in your throat when you see the way his bones lock up and something wicked whispers in the back of your mind. An apology tumbles out of your mouth and you don’t know why, and you want to cry but you don’t understand what’s got you like this.

It’s not until boney fingers start rubbing tentative circles into your shoulders that you realise you were actually crying, two fat tears down your cheeks that you hurriedly rub away. What a mess you are, you’ve barely known the guy for three days and he’s offered you a place to sleep and what do you go and do? This. Somehow you had managed to change the feel in the room in two seconds, that had to be some sort of record. You apologise again but Sans just shakes his head, rubbing circles with a little more self assurance.  
  
“Why?” You ask. “-Can I ask why?” You amend quickly - did you overstep a line? But if you did, he doesn’t say; he only looks quizzical for a moment before looking down at his lap.  
  
“Life isn’t all sunshine and unicorns down here, you know. I mean, I don’t need to tell you that - you have a better idea of sunshine than I do.” His smile hold for a moment before it drops. “I’ve… Seens some bad things while I’ve been around. It’s hard to forget.” You take the hand on his lap into your own and squeeze it, feel each of the bones cool against your skin, all twenty seven of them. (Science class must have been at least somewhat interesting if you still remember _that_.)  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“I know.” He says, something heavy in his voice. You meet his eyes.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you.” If Sans had a tongue, you swore that there would be words on the tip of it, but as it is an expression you cannot describe appears on his face. Shock, confusion… Relief? But it’s gone as soon as it came.  
  
“Good to know.” He replies. Somehow, you feel like there’s more to it than that.

You fall asleep curled in his sheets like a cocoon, hands cradled against your chest. Right where you could see them.  
  
-x-  
  
Thankfully, Papyrus was everything you had hoped him to be in terms of a battle. Which was to say, not really a batle at all. Of course, you’d needed to flirt with him - and the resulting date from that had been eventful to say the least, and you weren’t entirely sure why he kept attacking you in the middle of his sentences but the fact of the matter was that he spared you. Honestly, you were pretty sure that it was kind of impossible for you to hurt him - you would have had to have gone purposefully out of your way to do that. The way that the statement comes so matter-of-factly to your mind unsettles you. Do skeletons bleed?  
  
You’re relieved when your mind only offers blankness in reply.  
  
You wanted to say goodbye to Sans, but even after pacing around Snowdin all day you couldn’t find him. It kind of saddened you, to say the least - but Asgore’s waiting, and while this homely little town had its perks it still felt too small. Who knew who or what had been also tasked to get you? You didn’t really want to hang around to find out. Pulling your manly bandanna tighter around your head and clutching the stick in your hand you brave the snowstorm into the mouth of the cave-  
  
-Only to come face to skull with Sans. The skeleton was stationed behind another of those lookouts that you had seen littered around the place, and despite yourself you grin at him. His expression mirrors yours, his cheekbones lifting.  
  
“And to think I was starting to feel a little _bone_ ly.” He says. “I’m going to Grillby’s. Wanna come?” And you really shouldn’t, considering you just left and wasn’t the whole point of this to get closer to escaping out the barrier and returning home _as soon as possible_? But Sans was kind in a way you were learning to cherish here, and considering you’d been crashing in his room for the past week you felt like it was only fair to humor him.

He took you through a shortcut that you’re not sure you could have retraced even if Sans took you through it a hundred times, but honestly you didn’t really mind. Sans had a lot of secrets, and for the moment you were complacent only knowing some. The mood of the diner soon refocused your attention - you knew Sans was a generally likable sort of dude, but the way he worked the room made you realize just how small scale you were thinking. Sans knew everybody - congratulated the dog couple on their anniversary, gave Greater Dog a scratch, bantered with that weird fish dude you were _so_ glad you never called. He even pointed out a couple of moves for the dog sitting in the corner who was somehow losing in a game of poker against itself.  
  
“He could have won easily in three moves.” Sans said as they sat down at the bar. “But what can I say? I’m lazy.” You roll your eyes and laugh along with Sans, not pointing out that he had talked to every patron in the establishment, knew them all by name and how exactly was that lazy? “I’ll have a double order of burg.” He said to who you assume to be Grillby, and the guy nods before disappearing into the back.  
  
“So my brother…” He asked, turning back to you and _shit_ did he know about the date? “What do you think of him?”  
  
“Cool.” You reply. You want to specify that it’s cool in the dweeby way, but the way that Sans laughs steals the breath from your words and you laugh along with him. It feels like there was supposed to be a point to all this, that Sans was supposed to tell you something _important,_ but you’re far too caught up in the flow of the conversations, the stealth puns, the way his eyes literally light up when you crack a joke he didn’t see coming. Before long though their burgers are finished up (along with the ketchup - how that didn’t just run straight through Sans and down onto the floor when he drank it you have no idea) and conversation has run dry.  
  
“ _Bone_ dry.” You say, and Sans laughs. You can feel it stretched thin though and it makes you sad.  
  
“We should do this again some time.” You say, and Sans pauses for a moment as if considering what to say. He nods, gesturing for Grillby to put the meal on his tab. but as you turn to leave you feel a hand grip your wrist, cementing you in place. The bones are smooth against your skin, and you know you should want to struggle but you don’t. You know you don’t need to - that all you have to say is ‘stop’ and he’d let go.  
  
“Listen.” He says, and his voice is measured now, like he has a thousand things to say and yet can say nothing at all. “My brother, he keeps talking about being visited by this flower. It talks to him, encourages him, flatters him… It tells him things that I’m not sure he was ever supposed to know.” He says the final sentence flat - like the ‘not sure’ was only a courtesy thing and he knew exactly what’s going on. “Just keep an eye out for it, okay? We both know I can’t. I mean, I have sockets, I was doomed from the start.” You laugh, but it sounds as hollow as you feel.  
  
“I will.” You say.  
  
“I know you will.” He replies. He’s out the door before you can say goodbye.  
  
-x-  
  
You see Sans only once in your adventures through Waterfall - not that you were exactly able to stop and chat even if you did see him, considering the fucking head of the Royal Guard was after you. Undyne was the dog at your heels constantly nipping - but even they couldn't stop you from pausing to read the signs posted periodically through the dimly lit caverns. Under the makeshift starlight, with water lapping at the wharf you learn of the true reason humans drove the monsters underground - the realisation makes your heart beat just a little bit faster in your chest. Sure, you had realised some time ago that there was something more concrete about you, that monster bodies had nothing on your flesh and bone and blood. But the idea that you had such _strength_ made your hands shake, made them tighten around the stick in your hands as a shot of adrenaline goes through your system. You hold it out in front of you, ready to defend, ready to strike-  
  
You drop the stick as soon as you realise what you’re doing, and it clatters to the ground loudly. It almost fell through the cracks in the wood but that was the least of your concerns as you doubled over. For a single, blinding moment you felt so alone. You felt so alone and you didn’t care, didn’t care about _the dust that collected underneath your fingernails and through your hair that tasted like grief, felt nothing as a grinning skull grinning always grinning, you believed in me so much didn’t you? fell into the snow-_  
  
Cinnamon bunnies and nice creams didn’t taste as good coming back up.  
  
You’re glad you took a moment to recover your strength then because when you crossed the water Undyne was on you again, and your bones ache and your muscles scream but you had to keep going, you had to stay _determined_ even as spear after spear flew past your head. It felt like the path went on forever, and thank fuck for tall grass and that monster kid that was obsessed with Undyne because without both of them you’re pretty sure that you would of had a spear through the heart, goodbye you, see you in hell.  
  
You’re so caught up in thought that you almost miss the skeleton leaning against the wall, next to a telescope you were pretty sure was at least ten years out of date. Even though you just wanted to find a corner to catch a few minutes sleep in Sans’ ever present smile was infectious. He gestured to the telescope, giving you a corny wink as he gave you what was probably the best deal of your life. You didn’t see the paint on the rim until you looked into the scope, felt it smudge all over your face and you were so shocked that for a moment you didn’t know what to do.  
  
Then, you laughed.  
  
You laughed and laughed, held your belly as you slid down the wall and you could see the shock in Sans’ sockets but quite honestly you needed a moment to just absorb what’s currently happening. Once upon a time you were just another face in the crowd, your whole life stretching out before you, but now? Now you were alone in a world of literal monsters, monsters that wanted your soul to free them from this world of theirs that was simultaneously their prison. You had to constantly get yourself out of battles, convincing everybody you met that you don’t want to kill them you don’t want to kill them _why do you think I want to kill you?_  
  
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t bump your funny bone” Sans said as your laughter turned into stilted hiccups “so I’m pretty sure I should ask if you’re alright.”  
  
“Not really,” You reply with a crooked smile, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve. The paint smudges a long pink line down your arm; you sigh before letting your arm flop to your side. Just another stain to add to the growing collection. You’d joke that you looked homeless, but that wasn’t exactly untrue now and that made you sort of sad. “I kind of get why you’re so lazy now.”  
  
“Hey hey, it’s only because nobody desperately needs me.” Sans replies. You smile, sinking down against the wall and Sans joins you after a few moments.  
  
“I’m not giving up just yet.” You reply, pausing for a moment to find the words. “I don't think I could give up even if I wanted to. The determination I feel is... Unignorable. Like I don't have a choice."

"Like you're just a character in another person's story… That somebody else decides everything you say." Sans agreed. "I get you." The two of you sat quietly for a long while after that, staring out across the oasis with bridges and echo flowers scattered throughout. Sans is a comfortable weight against you, a solid touchstone and you sigh as you let your weight rest against him and breathe in his scent. He smells like Christmas and fire and somehow also a bone deep comfort that you can feel seeping into your bones. It feels natural, right to let him support your weight as the sound of water lapping against the shore fills the silence between the two of you.  
  
In that moment, you realise just how beautiful this world really is; how monsters had been locked away like they were vermin, abominations but instead of wilting away they had thrived as much as they could. You realise you would do anything for this world, for the eccentric people that you had met. Everybody was larger than life in the best way, and you couldn’t remember smiling this much in years. You wouldn’t just return home -  you would bring everybody with you.  
  
The realisation... It fills you not just with determination, but with hope.  
  
It wasn’t until you found yourself blinking sleep away from your eyes that you realise that you had fallen asleep to begin with. You scrambled to your feet but Sans was nowhere to be found, disappeared into the underground without a word. But when you go to dust yourself off you feel a weight slip off your shoulders quite literally, crumpling in a blue heap behind you. You pick it up, shake it off and when you realise what it is you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Quickly you pull your arms through the sleeves, zipping up the hoodie to ward off the worst of the damp chill that you hadn’t realised until now had been bothering you so much. A dusty tutu and a hoodie at least two sizes too big for you was hardly a stylish fashion choice, but fashion nowadays was the least of your concerns.  
  
As you set off again, you just hoped you would have the chance to tell Sans thank you.  
  
-x-

Somehow, you had made it to the MTT Resort.  
  
Hell, even now you weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten past Undyne. She was nearly as determined as _you_ which you hadn’t been sure was even possible until now. But it certainly was and the woman was hellbent on making sure you didn’t forget it, throwing attack after attack at you and you still found it miraculous that you had managed to deflect almost every one of them. Even after you started to flee she hadn’t given up on you, chasing you down and damn her longer legs she wasn’t _allowed_ to be faster than you and you could feel her chipping away at your health piece by piece but you just knew you had to get a bit further and you’d make it, you know you’d make it.  
  
You didn’t even realise you had passed Sans until you were able to take the moment to catch your breath, Undyne fainted at your feet. It took you a while longer to realise it was _Sans_ too, because all you felt for a long while was a heavy gaze. It felt… Expectant, heavy with an anticipation you were afraid to know the root of. Even as you had poured the water onto Undyne and tried to help her to her feet (‘tried’ being the key word, since she stormed off almost immediately after regaining consiousness) you could feel those pinprick eyes on you, the gaze going right through your shirt and it felt like he was staring at your very soul.  
  
You didn’t return to the Hotlands for a while after that.  
  
Undyne, weirdly enough, became the perfect distraction - Papyrus was convinced you two were going to be the _best_ of friends and in what was perhaps the strangest twist of fate you’d ever experienced he was a hundred percent correct. Between the most ridiculous cooking lesson you’d ever had and another battle you were _so_ glad you had managed to convince Undyne out of you were… actually on surprisingly good terms with her. But that didn’t change the fact you had to carry on through the Hotlands sometime - and who else was there to welcome you to the hotel but Sans?  
  
He leaned against the wall of the hotel, eyes closed and if you didn’t know him as well as you did (did you know him that well though?) you would have mistaken him for being asleep. But as you stepped forward his eyes opened again and your heart fluttered in your chest. You sunk your hands further into the pockets of his hoodie, as if they could swallow you up and perhaps rid you of this strange anticipation that sat in your chest.  
  
Sans asked you to dinner and you said yes in the same breath. It was fast, far too fast to be casual but you were pretty sure any relationship you had with a monster was going to be out of the ordinary now. You’d been on a date with Papyrus, essentially been on one with Undyne (even though you were convinced she was head over heels for Alphys) and you only got to know that monster kid because he was constantly following you around. But Sans… There was something different about the way you and him interacted - like you spoke in codewords that you had forgotten the meaning for and he never had. But the way he chuckled at your enthusiastic reaction to his dinner request, like he hadn’t quite been sure whether you’d say yes - it was worth it  
  
You’re not quite sure what to order so you let Sans do the talking, and he rattled off the order like he’d done it a thousand time. Something struck you as odd about the situation though as Sans turned back to you, and it took you a long minute to realise it was the tenseness that seemed to wrap his bones in a vice. You appreciated the words all the same, but there was a certain detachment to them - you weren’t quite sure why it made you sad but you felt it your duty to cheer up the sad sack anyway.  
  
You kick across your feet under the table, holding down Sans’ foot with your own and flashing him a wicked smile as he looks up at you. After a moment the smile on his face seemed to intensify, and his foot oh so slowly moved to trap yours underneath his instead. What followed was the most intense game of footsie that you’ve ever been a part of - one that had you gripping the seat of your chair as you desperately tried to pin San’s foot and steal one of his slippers. The later part of your plan Sans didn’t catch onto until it was too late, his shoe caught between your feet and a triumphant look on your face. But then his grin turned absolutely _mad_ , and in a second your feet were suddenly a lot more cold than you were used to and how the hell did Sans manage to get your shoes? They were, or had been, laced to your bloody foot!  
  
It was only when the waiter came over with your meals and what was probably a well deserved glare that the two of your guiltily returned each other’s shoes, turning your attention to the meal at hand as you tried to act like sophisticated adults that totally acted their age thank you very much. But you knew you were doomed from the beginning; you stole glances of Sans over every bite of the strange food and took him in. Yes, he was very much a skeleton but somehow he was more than that, soft edges and a calm knowing smile. Usually skeletons were the morbid reminder that nothing lasted forever, but Sans was the opposite - he was the reminder you were still alive, still determined. You played footsie under the table as you ate but it was more of silly nudging then the war you had had before. The butterflies in your stomach refused to leave, and you wished you could explain them.  
  
“Ah, look.” Sans says finally, and he leans back in his chair as he looks over at you. “I’m rooting for you. Even if I hadn’t made a promise to protect you I think I wouldn’t be able to stop myself at this point.” And you’re pretty sure you have absolutely no idea what promise Sans is talking about and yet… And yet you know exactly what he’s talking about. You can’t put words to it but you know the story word for word and that’s somehow more scary than any monster you’ve met.  
  
“You’d want to protect me?”  
  
“I think it’d be hard for me not to.” He said. “Even if it’s saving you from yourself, I’d do it.”  
  
“I know you would.” You know he would. He’s done it before- 

-Has he done it before? The words are coming to mind and you can’t put any sense of reason to them. This is your story, your one shot to give this your everything and hope something comes of it… And yet something doesn’t feel quite _right._ Sans is looking at you strangely now though, a question on his non existent lips and you wish you could answer it but you can’t.  
  
“I should be off.” He says carefully, and his eyes are still watching you and his gaze makes you squirm. But before he can disappear - quite literally, in his case - you yell out ‘Wait!’, stumbling to your feet as you pull off the jacket he lent you.  
  
“You should have this back.” You reply weakly, holding up the offending article of clothing. He comes over to stand in front of you, and you know he isn’t that much taller but right now it feels like the inch separating the two of you is a foot at least. His smile though is an easy one as he takes the hoodie, shrugging it over the identical one he’s currently wearing and you laugh because it just looks so _silly._ "Sorry for taking so long to return it." 

"Eh," he replies, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he gives you a look "don't _sweater_ it."

"That doesn't even work!" You say, but you can't hide your glee that cuts through the tense atmosphere like butter and Sans looks far too pleased in himself for that terrible joke.

Before he leaves though he digs into his innermost pocket, pulling out something shiny that he throws to you without warning. You barely catch it before it sails past your head, but the shape of it in your hand is unmistakeable. It’s a key.  
  
“A trade.” He says simply. “Because you looked after my jacket so well for me.”  
  
“What does it unlock?”  
  
“You know.” He says, before smiling. “Oh, and tell Papyrus I’m going to miss dinner again. You can have my plate if you want.” And then he disappears into the space between moments. You tuck the key into the pouch on your apron; you have a mystery to solve, and it looked like it was taking her to Snowdin.

-x-  
  
You weren’t entirely sure why Sans had given you the key to his room at first.

While the implication sails over Papyrus' head, Undyne catches on and mercilessly teases you for it. Honestly, you can't really blame her - you would and actually have done the same for her in return and she was having fun with her revenge. Honestly, the whole situation felt anticlimactic though until you found the key in Sans' dresser, worn from use and it fits in your hand too well to ignore. You knew what to do with this key, and you let your footsteps guide you as you unlock the door.  
  
The lab is quiet as you flick on the lights, the fluorescent bulbs humming into action as you take careful steps into the room. The room smells of disinfectant, and blueprints and various diagrams cover the various surfaces in the room. You pick one up, making sure not to crumple the edges. It seemed to depict a series of planes, crisscrossed with red arrows and marks and chicken scratch you could barely recognise as writing, let alone read. The majority of the other blueprints though seemed to be for machine parts, cogs and motherboards and electronic diagrams that make your head hurt just looking at them.  
  
Your hands almost pass over a nondescript photo album before you realise exactly what it is, returning to it and turning it over in careful hands. Flicking through only heightens your curiosity - these people all looked so familiar and yet didn’t; all the monsters so familiar and yet slightly off as if you were looking at their mirror images. The last image made you pause though mind scrambling to come up with an explanation that made sense. There wasn't one though - that was a photo of you, and you don't remember it ever being taken.

More than that though, the photo itself was improbable. Toriel was there and she'd never come out of the ruins, alongside a hulking beast of a monster you could only assume to be Asgore. Alphys and Undyne were there too, looking a lot more buddy buddy than usual, and in the centre with Papyrus and Sans at your side was _you_ , grinning and sporting a locket you'd never seen before. Not to mention the lighting wasn't the potent glow of lava or the starkness of stage lights. It was natural. This picture was taken outside the underground - but how?

Head spinning, you turned your attention towards the only thing left to explore in the room - the thing behind the curtain. You grip the fabric in your hands, worrying it between your fingers. Just pull it off, before you chicken out.

You pull it away.

The machine in front of you looks surprisingly old tech considering the sorts of things you had seen - the things you've seen in Alphys’ labs, her true one and this one, looked like it would blow this hunk of junk out of the water, but it was obvious it wasn’t meant to transform or shoot lasers or anything flashy. Indeed, the screen that the screen was frozen on gave that away; lines branching out connecting to dots of either red or green. A trail of blue dots trailed out along almost half of them; possible routes through the tree. A couple routes had a blaze of blue dots beside them, most notably the single all green tree which would have lit up the screen itself if not for the error that had frozen the screen. The cause of which isn’t hard to locate at all, a single blinking blue light at the end of another tree… At the end of the all red branch.  
  
You know exactly what Sans has been doing - you know because the walls that you’ve put up are breaking and you need to talk to Sans because if this proves anything it’s that he _knows,_ he knows exactly what’s going. You’re out of the lab before you know it, past Papyrus (all it took was four punches one two three and an uppercut to the jaw) and past Undyne (determination like no monster’s before but it couldn’t rival yours; it could never rival yours), down to the ferryman who you can feel give you a curious glance from under his hood as he stares the boat towards the Hotlands.  
  
Your hands are shaking. You wish you had pockets to stuff them into. But you need to do this.

-x-

You’ve been in this place before.

Your footsteps are too quiet in this magnificent place and yet at the same time far too loud - echoing for so long that each step seems to bleed into the next. It’s unnerving, a strange thing to think in a hall bathed in golden light with songbirds chirping away outside. How long had this paradise stayed near untouched, only walked by the king of monsters that wants your soul so desperately?  
  
Sans appears in front of you, appearing from between pillars in a whisper of a breath. His eyes are bright in the dreamy lighting, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Your hands are still shaking and you wring your hands in front of you - a part of you wishes that you had picked up the dagger in your- the kid’s bedroom when you had the chance but your mind instantly baulks at the notion.  
  
Do skeletons bleed? While the answer doesn’t immediately come to mind, your mind is no longer silent.  
  
“Sans.” You say, and your voice is dwarfed in the hall but rings out all the same. He nods, closing his eyes and holding them like that for a long moment. His smile doesn’t budge an inch, and for a moment you are reminded of exactly of what’s standing in front of you. A husk, the physical remains of a human long gone strung together by magic to talk and live and breathe.  
  
“I’d say hello in return, but I kind of don’t know what to call you. Frisk? Chara?” You recoil at the second name as a shot of disgust sinks its claws into your stomach. He smirks as much as a skeleton can smirk. “I don’t think in this world I can learn your name.” You know that’s true - that would require communication across timelines, realities that just wasn’t possible now. Maybe later. Maybe never.  
  
“How much do you know?” You ask.  
  
“You say it like it’s that simple. It’s not… I think you know that though.” He says. When you nod your head he makes an affirmative sound, as if you’d just confirmed his suspicions, before he begins to pace. “I know timelines exist. I know that there are multiple in existence - that is all I can confirm.” He says. “Beyond that things get fuzzy… And they involve you.” His eyes meet yours, and for a moment it’s not two pinprick pupils that meet yours, it’s a flashing iris and a pained smile as he raises his arm above his head-  
  
“In theory there should be an infinite amount of timelines. There should be a different path for every monster’s possible action; my decision to meet you in Snowdin should have changed this timeline away from all those where I met you in the Hotlands, or Waterfall or the first time now as you walk in to meet Asgore.” You both know you’re not here to meet Asgore. Not really. “But as soon as you come into the equation everybody always does the same thing. All of Papyrus’ answers to his puzzles are the same. Undyne always write the same thing in her letter. Alphys updates Undernet at the same time with the same status, and it’s all because of you. You do something which should be impossible. You limit the timelines.”  
  
“It should still hold even then though, right?”  
  
“That’s what I thought.” Sans replied. “Knew I liked you for a reason.” The joke falls flat though, left to echo through the hall. "But it doesn't matter even then. There's only so many points in every timeline you can effect, and only two options in each. Mercy-"

"-or death." You reply. You notice how tired Sans' smile looked.

"Flowey used to be the hardest person to deal with - but at least he could only do so much as a flower. You... You could destroy this whole timeline. You nearly did."

"I... I killed you."

"You did."

" _I killed you."_ You say again, and you sink onto your knees because finally the memories are flooding back and why why _why._ You remember getting the happy ending, they're out in the human world you and your friends and all monster kind they're finally, finally free-  
  
reset.  
  
You remember killing one monster, just one to see what it was like. You remember feeling the dust on your hands and trying to carry on and pretend like nothing had happened. But they knew, they _knew,_ Undyne had never given you a look so dirty and you escaped to the surface alone so alone-  
  
reset.  
  
You remember first felling Mettaton, Undyne, Papyrus because this world was in infinite loop and you could always go back and you could feel each death crawl across your back but you could always-  
  
reset.  
  
And every time, always there was Sans Sans _Sans._ God, to think that when you first walked through the door into the outskirts of Snowdin and you had heard Sans following behind you, in your innocence you had thought that _you_ were the one turning to look death in the face. Now? Now you could feel the dust on your skin, under your nails, a physical brand of your sins that even resetting couldn’t wash away.

"What do you remember?" You say, looking up at him and you can barely force the words out of your mouth. _Because now I remember everything_ are the unspoken words between the two of you. 

"That’s a pretty loaded question, bucko.” He says, but the attempt at a more lively tone falls flat - considering the subject matter, you’re not entirely surprised. “I don’t know where to begin… I guess that you weren’t yourself. Monsters aren’t all bad, but you cut us all down and suddenly I realised I was the only person between you and. Well. Whatever you wanted.” His tone is staccatoed, clipped in a way that only serves to amplify the discomfort you can hear in his voice. “All I knew - all I know is whatever you planned to do with those souls? I couldn’t let it happen. I made my way here, between the pillars. And when you walked towards me in this hall and attacked me that wasn't just curiosity. That wasn't even determination. That was something else - some _body_ else. But it’s not like I had a choice in the matter. If I let you past that was the end, goodbye, see you later. I know you kept using your SAVE - I can feel it. Every time you use it I can feel it. That’s why I originally started tracking it, you know? Because I can’t remember, but I _knew._ ”  
  
“But you did this time.”  
  
“I did.” He confirms. “In that fight I’d tried everything to make you give up, even bended the rules because like hell you had any respect for them. I gave up. I didn’t know why I was fighting anymore. I’m not immortal, and you were always fated to win. Finally, this happened” and he pulls down the neck of his shirt, and you can see the dent in the first two ribs. It looks like bone that had broken and had never quite set right - your stomach churns as your fingers flex and your body remembers the exact angle you had stuck that blow with. “this happened, and I thought to myself ‘well gee, this is the end. see you in hell’. But it wasn’t. I woke up, the machine was broken and I remembered everything. And when you looked at me that first time after you walked out of the ruins in Snowdin I knew you didn’t remember anything at all, and that’s when I knew things were going to be different.”

"I'm going to fuck everything up."

“You won’t.” Sans says, and he’s knelt down next to you now, taken one of your hands between his own. His bones feel like the finest porcelain, the bone china you used to see displayed in cabinets in antique stores. But you know his bones are stronger than anything, and you grip his hand tight before you can talk yourself out of it. Your heart has kicked into double time - can Sans feel it, with his fingers fluttering over your pulse?  
  
"I don’t know about that." You say, quietly, looking up at him and meeting his eyes. You remember his blank gaze, you remember that single horrific iris but now you can only see those two pinpricks of light - and somehow they hold more soul than anybody you’ve ever met. “I remember now, hearing you turn to dust. I remember Asgore dying at my feet, Flowey begging for mercy, but I couldn’t control myself anymore. I wanted to let him go but I kept cutting and cutting, even when he turned to dust I kept _cutting_. And suddenly I could feel _them_ digging their hands into my very soul and I knew that something was so, so wrong. So I reset. But I didn't know why but I somehow managed to reset myself? Maybe I’ve run out of them. I don’t know. All I know is I’m never resetting again. Not after this. I just don’t know if it's too late for that." 

“Everybody’s alive.” Sans says. “We know what happens from here. You walk in there to meet Asgore, and we get to unite and then… Hell, don’t ask me what happens when it goes all white. You’re the one doing that, not me. But then we get to go free - and that’s our happily ever after.”  
  
“But what if _they’re_ still there, in my head?-”  
  
“They’re not.” Sans says, so fiercely that it makes you recoil. He lets go of your hands, but only because he instead reaches up to tip your face to meet his gaze better. Now you know he can feel how fast your pulse is beating because your can feel the _thud-thud-thud_ against his fingers. “I know because I’ve watched you, remember? I’ve been there every step, seen you take on every challenge in your way and when you did? That was _you,_ not them. And if I didn’t know from then, I know from that night at Grillby’s, when you slept in my bed for a week because you had to _work up_ the courage to face my brother because you thought he’d try to kill you. And if I didn’t know from all that I’d know from our dinner date. I mean, that’s what it was, wasn’t it?” And Sans is trying to play it cool, but his cheekbones are blushing blue and you didn’t even know that was _possible._ “I- I made a promise, long ago that I’d protect whatever kid walked through that door. I’ve protected you from this world so many times over, I’ve tried to protect you from yourself but this time… This time I can’t protect you, because I’ve started to fall in love with you, and that’s the most dangerous thing of all, isn’t it?”  
  
You kiss him.  
  
You can’t contain yourself after something like that - you surge forward and press your lips against his teeth and maybe you hadn’t exactly thought through how this was going to work considering that he didn’t have lips or skin and that he was _literally a skeleton._ But right now, you don’t care. Sans has done so much for you, been there for you time and time again and saying you weren’t at least a little bit in love with him too would have had you lying through your teeth. You feel all the tension leak out of Sans, his fingers coming up to cup your face so softly like you’re a bird in his hands and he’d crush you if he’s not careful. When you pull back he pulls you in tight, nuzzles your neck and he smells like Christmas and fire and _home._ You can hear the birdsong outside, the golden light still filters in on the now silent scene between you two and you don’t mind at all. Sans looks ethereal as he pulls back, pinprick eyes glowing so bright in his sockets that it's almost blinding but you can’t help but laugh as your fingers wind into his hoodie.  
  
“Nope, never resetting. Ever.”  
  
“Aw, you wouldn’t want to relive this again?” He says, but you can see that glimmer in his eyes of thankfulness. He’s been through enough. You’ve been through enough. You get to your feet and Sans is right behind you.  
  
“Time to finish this.” You say, and you walk away. You don’t look back. You know Sans is already gone. But you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and that alone is enough to fill you with determination.  
  
-x-  
  
The sunrise is just as beautiful as you remember, throwing hues of red and orange and yellow across the sky in a brilliant cacophony. But it pales in comparison to the look of utter wonder on Sans’ face, and how did you miss this every other time you got this ending?

But that was it, wasn’t it? You’d never gotten this ending before. You’d never held Sans’ hand as you made the final ascent out of the only world he had ever know. You had never felt his bones rattle out of apprehension, out of fear for the unknown. You’d never known him well enough to look at his face as he took in the sight of the over world for the first time, the way his jaw went slack and his eye sockets widened. Best of all, the expression didn’t fade when he looked over at you; if anything it just got wider, as if he couldn’t quite decide which sight was more breath-taking. You press a kiss to his cheek, and he laughs and pulls you close.

This was the final ending, the happily ever after that you’d always wanted, but never quite known how to get. But sans Sans, that was never going to happen. And now? Now you were ready to face the world.

You’re finally ready to have a _good_ time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Write Undertale fic, I say. It'll be like 4k, I say.


End file.
